Somewhere along the way, we started treating creativity like a genetic trait, something reserved for "creatives". Think designers, writers, artists, and the occasionally gifted child who colored inside the lines a little too well.

Everyone else? Well, if they weren't seen as an artist then they may have taken on the idea that they were "not creative". In reality, that label has far less to do with talent and far more to do with the invisible walls we build around what we think creativity is.

For most people, “being creative” conjures images of beautifully rendered comps, pixel-perfect prototypes, or that one person in the room who can sketch something that looks like an actual human hand. But this narrow, aestheticized version of creativity has quietly convinced countless people that they don’t belong in the creative process.

And that’s the lie.

Creativity isn’t a skill reserved for a select few.
Creativity is the act of giving shape to ideas, any ideas, in any form.

If you can write a thought on a sticky note, you’re creating.

If you can scribble a blocky, lopsided sketch in pencil, you’re creating.

If you can paste a few screenshots into your Notes app and connect them with a sentence or two, you’re creating.

And today, if you have access to a phone, you can prompt your favorite AI to help your idea take shape. It may not be perfect but it might be good enough to get your idea across to the person who can help take it across the finish line.

These are not lesser forms of creativity. They’re the raw materials that great design is built on.

The trap we all fall into is that designers aren’t the sole inventors of ideas—we’re the editors, curators, and amplifiers of them. Our skill isn't in being the only creative voice in the room; it’s in shaping and elevating a diverse set of inputs into something coherent, functional, and meaningful. The best products aren’t born from one person’s imagination, they emerge from a chorus of different perspectives.

When we empower the people around us who don’t see themselves as “creative,” a few important things happen:

Ideas can surprise you.

Engineers, analysts, support teams, and strategists notice things designers might miss. Their lived experiences sharpen the product.

Outcomes improve.

Cross-functional creativity leads to better alignment and better decisions. When more people feel heard early, we spend less time fighting for buy-in later.

Teams become braver.

When people stop worrying about whether their input is “creative enough,” they start showing up with more confidence, vulnerability, and imagination.

Design becomes a shared responsibility.

And shared responsibility creates shared ownership, which is how strong product cultures are built.

If you lead creative teams, or work inside one, the most powerful thing you can do isn’t producing the best idea in the room. It’s making the room safe enough that the best idea can come from anyone in it.

So the next time someone says, “I’m not creative,” remind them:

• You don’t need a design title to use your imagination.
• You don’t need a fine art degree to contribute to the process.
• You don’t need permission to be heard.

Creativity isn’t a rare superpower. It’s a muscle we all have and sometimes we stopped being encouraged to use it, too early in life.

And the work only gets better when we help each other get it back.